


When I look at the world

by snarled_musings



Series: Songfic 'verse [8]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 15:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarled_musings/pseuds/snarled_musings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birds are good at taking flight, Finch is better at that than most birds. They are also good at moving on, knowing when to migrate to the next home. He's worse at that, but he can learn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I look at the world

**Author's Note:**

> Real world's been busy, my computer's been broken and my muses been on vacation. so what happened was another "first time"-fic that reared its head as I listened to music. So this went into my songfic-'verse.
> 
> Inspired by U2's song "When I look at the world", which is really great.

Finch tapped absently at the keys of his keyboard, fingers typing commands by their own volition. His mind was miles away, the work getting done by autopilot. He looked at the screen again, where the camera view was showing. The park was so incredibly familiar by now; he was sure the bench had begun to get grooves from his behind. He knew what that park looked like, could walk through it with his eyes closed. But most of all he knew that door. He'd lost count of how many times he'd stared at that door. Waiting to catch a glimpse of her, of her fiery red hair. He'd wished he could get close enough to look at the sparkling green of her eyes, glinting with laughter. He'd wished he could be with Grace again. Oh, how he'd wished it. She'd been the center of his universe, his everything. She'd understood him; or at the very least she hadn't teased him for being strange. He was, he supposed. Nathan had been right. He was an introvert.

 

Which was what made it so surprising that he'd been drawn to Grace. He, the analyst, the calm intellectual, who never let his heart rule his mind, had fallen for an artist. She was impulsive, kind, gentle, emotional... everything he wasn't, and everything he'd ever teased Nathan for being. He knew his best friend would tease him mercilessly when he'd met Grace.

 

Finch smiled as he remembered her birthday. How she'd hugged the orchids to her chest and just stared at the painting, awestruck. That was probably one of the most vivid mental snapshots of her that he'd kept in his mind. That look on her face.

 

_When you look at the world, what is it that you see_

_people find all kinds of things that bring them to their knees_

 

_I see an expression, so clear and so true_

_That it changes the atmosphere when you walk into a room_

 

She'd changed him, drawn him out of his shell. Made him forget that the world was a cold, hard place; made it beautiful again. Or maybe made it beautiful for the first time. He'd watched her as she smiled at young mothers and their babies, how she'd petted dogs that looked ferocious but turned to putty under her touch. No matter where she went she made people smile and laugh. That included himself, and it had made him want to be the same way. Made him want to change, to be as genuinely good as she was. If he wasn't, how could he ever deserve her?

 

_So I try to be like you, try to feel it like you do_

_But without you it's no use_

_I can't see what you see when I look at the world_

 

He looked at the screen again. For the longest time after the explosion he'd gravitated towards that park; refused to let her go. Refused to give her up completely. Clinging to those stolen glimpses of her, those furtive moments he could watch her. But then, ever so slowly he'd begun to let her go. Reese was the reason for that. At first he'd felt like he'd endangered Grace by letting Reese find out about her. Which was stupid in and of itself. Mostly because he knew he'd subconsciously _let_ Reese find out about her. If Finch really had wanted to keep her secret he'd have taken greater precautions not to be followed by Reese. The other man was good at his job, exceptional even, but Finch was a master at covering his tracks. So he'd surmised after a lot of introspection that somehow he wanted Reese to know about Grace, about that link to his former life. He still wasn't entirely clear over his own motives. And he'd spent a lot of time mulling over it.

 

Part of it was that somehow it felt unfair keeping tabs on Grace, clinging to her, when Reese had had no other choice but to let go of his love. He couldn't even go visit Jessica's grave. They had so many discrepancies in their relationship; Finch was loathe to add to the tally. That was what he told himself. It seemed unfair, like he was rubbing the fact that his love was alive in Reese's face. Also, Reese had gained a certain notoriety in certain circles. If someone saw him, followed him back to Finch, who in turn led him to Grace... He had to give her up, he had to stop watching her. At least for real; he could still sneak glances of her on the camera feeds. He knew that hit a whole new level of paranoia, that it wasn't likely to happen. It took him the longest time to finally admit to himself the real reason he didn't skulk in the park to steal glimpses of her anymore. When he eventually admitted it, it came as something of a shock.

 

”I don't love her anymore.” That wasn't true, not entirely. He knew that as he said the words out loud in the empty library. He would always love her, she would always be dear to him. She would always own a piece of his heart. ”I'm letting her go,” he amended quietly. That felt more right. He'd always cherish their time together, remember how happy she'd made him. But he wasn't that person anymore. The world wasn't alone in changing, he'd done so as well. The Harold he'd been together with Grace wasn't there anymore. He'd died in an accident on a ferry, and another Harold had emerged. Many times he'd wondered why he'd never used the alias Phoenix. Maybe because it was too gaudy, too obvious. But that was what he was. A phoenix, rising from the ashes of his old life. Of course the mythological bird rose fully healed, born anew, whereas Finch had risen broken and diminished. But not beaten, never beaten. And with the help of Reese he'd grown even stronger. Together they were a force to be reckoned with.

 

_When the night is someone else's and you try to get some sleep_

_when your thoughts are to expensive to ever wanna keep_

 

_When there's all kinds of chaos, and everyone is walking lame_

_You don't even blink now, do you, not even look away_

 

His thoughts were interrupted by familiar footsteps echoing down the hall. A small smile tugged at Finch's lips. He could tell by the sound of those steps what mood Reese was in. Today they were light, fleet, playful. Reese had done his morning yoga, probably taken a run with Bear. He was relaxed, at ease. Finch was glad no new number had come in yet. That meant he got to spend some time with Reese in this mood. It was too rare for them to spend some downtime, to ”hang out” as Fusco called it. The clatter of claws on stone floors followed shortly, before Bear burst into the room with a woof of greeting. Finch allowed a small smile as he affectionately ruffled the dog's fur; the smile widened minutely as he looked up at Reese. He wore his customary black suit and white shirt. Lately he'd taken to use almost exclusively the bespoke ones, shunning the off-the-rack ones. Finch appreciated it; after all it was said that the clothes made the man. That wasn't true. John Reese was so much more than an undoubtedly attractive clothes hanger. His biggest appeal in Finch's eyes was his unflappable calm. Reese just didn't lose his head, ever. He'd lost count of how many times they'd both been in danger, how many times he'd been on the verge of panic. How many times he'd frozen up, unable to take any kind of action. But Reese had just been there, a calm port in a storm, always able to save them. No matter what the cost was to him personally, no matter what demons it awoke, he unfailingly had Finch's back. How could Finch feel anything but affection and gratitude in the face of that?

 

”Good morning, Finch. How's our schedule today?” Reese set a cup of tea down in front of him, next to the box of chocolate croissants he'd brought. Finch didn't even need to open the lid, he could smell it a mile away. Reese grinned as he perched on the edge of the desk, amused by Finch's greedy grabs for the box. Finch pulled a croissant out, offering it to Reese as he answered.

 

”Nothing's come up yet, Mr. Reese. You're free to take the day off if you like.” Reese smiled, taking his jacket off and hanging it on the coat tree.

 

”Don't mind if I do, Harold.” He stretched lazily before rolling up his sleeves. Finch followed his moves, fascinated by the precise fluidity of them.

 

”Do you have plans?”

 

Reese gave a small grin. ”Actually, unless it bothers you, I planned to continue reading the book I started.”

 

”Why would it bother me?”

 

”Because I intended to stay here to read it.” Finch felt a small surge of joy. He wasn't the only one who enjoyed spending their downtime together. Reese glanced at the screen. ”Is she okay?” Finch looked up at him. There was something in his face, a slight tension that he didn't recognize. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

 

”I assume so. I haven't seen her.”

 

”Does it bother you?” It was there in his voice as well, a note that was slightly off. Finch glanced at the screen again, picturing those green eyes. He felt a surge of fondness; that surge grew stronger as he looked into Reese's blue eyes. It was amazing how much he cared for this man. He instilled a multitude of emotions in Finch. Gratitude, warmth, friendship, love. Finch wasn't ashamed to admit that to himself these days. All of that was overlapped by pure admiration.

 

”Not really. I've decided it's time to let her go. It doesn't help to cling to what might have been but never will be. I'm still alive, and we've got so much ahead of us, you and I. I won't let the past hold me back any longer.”

 

_So I try to be like you, try to feel it like you do_

_But without you it's no use_

_I can't see what you see when I look at the world_

 

He felt the truth of his words as he uttered them. There was that phoenix analogy again. He'd risen a new man, maybe not a better man, but different. Much of that resurrection had begun when Reese had entered his life. He was more than ready to move on fully. What that entailed he wasn't entirely sure of yet, but he was willing to let Reese lead the way there. Reese looked at him, astonishment coloring his voice.

 

”You're letting her go?” Finch quirked his lips up. It was rare that he got to blindside Reese completely. After all they had their ongoing one-upmanship going, just to keep them both amused. That was all there was nowadays, a game, a pastime. If Reese asked him something today Finch would tell him the truth. He was sure it would be the same the other way around. But it was still fun to try and ferret each others secrets out, to follow the leads. It kept both of them from going soft.

 

”She's moved on, and I've come to realize that so have I. There's no point clinging to this anymore. I will always love her, but mostly I will be grateful to her, that she drew me out of my shell.”

 

Reese smiled at that. ”If that's the case I don't even want to imagine how reclusive you must have been before you met her. You're not exactly Mr. Talkative when it comes to yourself.”

 

”I believe you're right, Mr. Reese. I've never been the life of the party. Not like you.”

 

Reese's smile was slightly bitter. ”That wasn't entirely of my own volition. You know as well as I do that sometimes the best place to hide is in plain sight. I much prefer it like it is now. I don't agree with Kara, that we are the dark, but we're definitely the shadows.”

 

_I can't wait any longer, can't wait til I'm stronger_

_Can't wait any longer to see what you see when I look at the world_

 

”It may be that we are the shadows, Mr. Reese, but we are the shadows that protect innocent people from the things lurking in the full dark. We are the barrier that keeps them from seeing the real monsters.” He didn't like hearing that bitterness in Reese's voice. Sometimes he was still wholly convinced he was some kind of monster. It made Finch feel a burst of affection towards agent Snow. Not that he'd liked the other man, but he'd at least had the excellent taste to take Stanton with him as he died. It spared Finch the work of having to track her down and destroy her, solely for all the things she'd made Reese believe about himself. That was something he _didn't_ envy, the skewed image of the world and himself. He rose without really thinking about it and put a hand on Reese's shoulder in comfort. Reese looked at him with evident surprise before his face softened slightly.

 

”What amazes me is that you really believe that. Don't you think you're just a little bit naïve?” Finch smiled. He was naïve, he knew that, but he wasn't stupid. The difference between those two were vital.

 

”I know I am. Don't you think you're being just a little cynical?” Reese mirrored his smile.

 

”I know I am. It has kept me alive this far.” Finch tightened his hand on Reese's shoulder. It hurt to hear that tone of voice. He couldn't believe how short Reese was selling himself.

 

_I'm in the waiting room, I can't see through the smoke_

_I think of you and your holy book when the rest of us choke_

 

_tell me tell me, what do you see_

_Tell me, tell me what's wrong with me_

 

”What's wrong with me? Why do I see you so differently from how you see yourself?” He was genuinely curious to know. He wanted Reese to see what he did. He wasn't really sure why it was so important, it just was. Reese gave a small laugh.

 

”There's nothing wrong with you, Finch. You're just too good to be real sometimes. How many times have you refused to believe that our numbers would do no harm?”

 

”How many times have I been wrong?” Reese opened his mouth, then shut it again and just looked at him. Finch gave a victorious grin as he bit into his croissant. ”Exactly,” he murmured with his mouth full. Reese looked torn between amusement and irritation as he reached out and absently brushed a few crumbs of pastry away from the corner of Finch's mouth with his thumb. The gesture was so casual, but it froze Finch in his tracks. His mouth fell open slightly and he realized he must make a singularly unattractive sight. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. Reese looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, staring at his thumb like it had betrayed him. He looked so absurd that a startled laugh escaped Finch. Reese's head snapped up, a frown on his face before he gave a small laugh as well. Somehow that sudden awkwardness was just gone. Finch simply leaned in, Reese meeting him halfway in a gentle, soft kiss. Just a chaste press of lips, a question in and of itself. Reese's eyes sparkled as they drew apart.

 

”Did I mention it was time to move on? That means for you as well. I'll make you see what I see when I look at you, even if it drives us both crazy.”

 

Reese gave a smile. ”I can think of much more fun ways to drive us both crazy.”

 

”I'm sure you do. We'll have plenty of time to try them; right now I want to finish this croissant and take Bear for a walk. Care to join me?” He hesitated for a moment before holding his hand out. Reese didn't hesitate as he intertwined their fingers. Finch looked down at their joined hands. In the corner of his eye he could see his screen. He wasn't sure, but he thought he could see a flash of red hair. He smiled softly to himself. It was time to move on, to see the world with fresh eyes. To give them both a new start. He smiled and turned the screen off, impatiently tugging at Reese to move as he gathered Bear's leash.

 

 


End file.
